


Death Knell in the Daytime

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: The International Wizarding School Championship [27]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Class Differences, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Master & Servant, Valeting, this is so very self indulgent and i will not apologise for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Today is the day Theodore had been dreading for months. And what else could he do but continue as normal with Blaise, hoping against hope, until he couldn't ignore it anymore.





	Death Knell in the Daytime

**Author's Note:**

> Written for THC Round 5 [prompt] Ending a Marriage Arrangement

Theodore Nott threw open the window, light flooding the room along with a blast of the cold morning air. He rested his hands on the sill, morning dew dampening his hands. This was a day he thought would never come. He had deluded himself, thinking that if he just ignored its existence, it couldn't hurt him. A child's fantasy really.

"Close the blinds!" Blaise groaned. 

Theo turned around, propping one shoulder against the frame to watch his partner. Blaise in the morning was a far cry from the put together individual he was later in the day. Warmth settled in Theo's chest at the thought that he was the only one who got to observe this scene, the only one Blaise trusted to see him at his most vulnerable, in the moonlight and in the early morning sun.

The blanket was tangled in Blaise's legs, feet sticking out of the bottom clad in a stolen pair of Theo's striped socks. His chest was bare, piercings catching the light as he breathed, his face buried in the pillow he’d snagged from Theo's side of the bed. Blaise peered blearily out, squinting in the light, and grinned at Theo, slow and sweet, his stomach flipping reflexively. Six years of peace since the War had ended, seven years since they first confessed their love to each other. They had been tucked into an alcove in the Hogwarts library, tired and stressed out, each walking the tightrope of remaining neutral in the spiralling conflict.

Their worlds were fundamentally different even if they were both a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Struggle as he might against it, Theo knew that this day would always arrive.

"Today's the day," Theo said softly, running his eyes along Blaise's form as if he would disappear like snow under bright sunlight.

"Today's the day," Blaise repeated, smile slipping from his face and in turn, being replaced by a somber sadness. He shifted, so he was lying flat on his back, pillow fully pulled back over his face, trying to block out everything. Theo ached with the urge to slip back into bed with him, to pull the sheets over their heads and block out everything.

"I'll get your things ready."

It wasn't to be.

━ ─ ━ ─ ━━ ─ ━「 ₪ 」━━ ─ ━ ─ ━ ─ ━

The hangers clinked softly together as Theo ran his hands along them, the fabric rustling as he considered his options.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Blaise said, as he always did, another part of this ritualistic dance they did. 

He was sitting in front of the mirror, legs crossed at the ankle and a cup held in two hands. He looked every bit the Lord he was expected to be.

"I don't mind," Theo replied, finally making his selection. 

He drew out the chosen suit to hang on the wardrobe door. Truthfully, he didn't mind. Others, crueller and cruder, would say that servitude was in his blood. House Nott was a Sacred House, but it was never a  _ high _ house, never held lofty titles or swathes of land. They watched, and they waited, and they served. Theo's father would die in shame if he knew, and Theo didn't care if he did or not. It wasn't important to him.

He served Blaise, but only Blaise, because he would never ask it of Theo. He loved Theo and enjoyed this game of theirs, indulging in being the proper Lord that he had been raised to be.

"Stand up please," Theo asked, catching a glimpse of Blaise's soft smile in the mirrored wardrobe door, reflected from the mirror in the vanity. 

Blaise obeyed, draining the last dregs of his tea and setting the cup down with a small clink. Theo plucked a clean undershirt from the chest of drawers. The scent of lavender filled the room, mingling with the smokiness of the tea. This was the start of the end of everything Theo longed for, everything he had fought so hard to keep. He continued, willingly to the end, like a lamb to the slaughter.

Blaise pouted at him as Theo pulled the undershirt over his head, smoothing his hands over Blaise's flat stomach to feel the muscles twitch. It always seemed to surprise people when they first found out Blaise was severely ticklish. His normal icy demeanor would break the second fingers brushed against his neck.

"Tease," he accused, voice still deep from sleep.

Theo hummed, close enough to Blaise to feel his breath on his face, their noses brushing together.

"You're going to be a married man," Theo said, airing the words that had been tormenting him, torturing them, for months.

"An arranged marriage," Blaise answered with a sigh, cupping Theo's face between his hands, forcing the other man to look him in the eye. "I didn't choose her; I chose  _ you _ ."

"I know. That doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Theo-"

Theo stepped away, hands trembling at his sides. It was like an open wound, raw and bleeding, and he couldn't leave it alone. Turning the news around and around in his head until he ached with the pain of it all.

"Just let me do this please."

Blaise bowed his head in silent acceptance before he straightened up, pulling on his Lord persona in one swift movement. A shiver ran down Theo's spine, his cheeks heating up. He loved this man too much, it threatened to consume him utterly.

The shirt was duly retrieved from the hanger, Theo slipping back into the contented calm he longed for. He didn't have to think, he knew this routine like the back of his hand. It was an oasis amidst the terror and uncertainty lingering just outside of their apartment door. The buttons were small and fiddly, the mother of pearl inlay gleaming underneath his fingers as the sun rose further into the clear sky. Theodore focused every fibre of his being on the small tasks.

Robes, black as deepest night, settled over Blaise's chest as they were tailored made to do so. Theodore had deliberately not looked at the price tag attached when they first arrived. Blaise was more comfortable with his money, given his rich mother and his successful business; while the necessary budgeting from Theodore's childhood with a criminal for a father and a dead mother seemed to dog every footstep. They were a good match, smoothing out the other's rough edges.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Blaise's voice broke Theo out of his revere, shocking him back into the present like a bucketful of ice water.

"I love you," Theo said simply, brushing his hands along Blaise's shoulders, luxuriating in the sensation of soft fabric under his hands. 

If this were any other day, Blaise would wind up bundling Theo up in the fabric, crushing him to his chest in a warm embrace until Theo was boneless and content.

"I love you too," Blaise answered, bending down just enough to press his forehead to Theo's.

The alarm made them both jump, guilty as if they were back at school.

"It's almost time," Theo said, voice flat, limbs leaden.

"Theo-"

"Don't. Please."

Theo continued helping Blaise dress for his wedding in silence.

━ ─ ━ ─ ━━ ─ ━「 ₪ 」━━ ─ ━ ─ ━ ─ ━

The doors slamming shut behind Theodore felt like a death knell. Everyone's eye was drawn to him. He longed to run back upstairs and curl up under the covers, but it wasn't to be. He wasn't a frightened child any longer, terrified of the monsters lurking outside his window even if he now knew their faces to be the men and women who visited him during his childhood and his old schoolmates.

He tugged on his cuffs and met their gazes. Theodore was many things, but he was still a Slytherin. He knew this game; this silent ever-evolving game where the only way to win was to never back down. Theo could see it in their eyes, they wanted him to break down, to make a scene, to disgrace himself at the wedding of his boyfriend to a stranger, a  _ female _ stranger. He wouldn't, though. He refused to give them that satisfaction.

Theo could feel the weight of their eyes upon him as he moved through the hall, steps ringing on the stone floor. There was a chill in the air despite the warmth of the sun, which was now fully risen. This was a true Wizarding marriage, but some Muggle customs had slipped in throughout the centuries, now indistinguishable from the original ceremony for all but the most devout of magical scholars. Theo sat down in his seat mechanically, back painfully straight, his mind blank but for one pulsing thought: this would all be over soon.

He'd hidden money away, his name was on the business just as much as Blaise's was. They had split it down the middle — Blaise had insisted. How long would that last with his new wife? Blaise had only met her once before, the perfect gentleman that he was, his mother with her collection of weddings rings behind him as a reminder; and his bride-to-be had shone like the sun, grace and beauty. When she had seen Theo, her expression had flickered like a flame and beneath it was pure loathing. Theo couldn't even begrudge her hatred as he hated her as well. He hated that she was somehow the acceptable choice for Blaise, more so than him.

Theo realised his fists were clenched, consciously relaxing his muscles, smoothing out the creases in his trousers, only to tense again as the doors to his left swung open and Blaise stepped out, kicking it closed behind him.

Something was wrong.

Theo made to stand but was frozen in place as Blaise shook his head striding with purpose towards the opposite door, where his future bride was meant to appear. Theo's heart was in his throat, pulse loud in his ears, as Blaise pulled the door open, speaking in a low voice to the woman inside. Whispers exploded like fireworks around the room, everyone was desperate to discuss this most heinous breach in protocol, but dying to hear what Blaise was saying.

The slap, a solid noisy thing, snapped Blaise's head to the side, a red mark already developing on his cheek. The bride-to-be burst into noisy hysterical tears, her parent's rushing from their seats to console her, Blaise barely managing to step out of the way.

Theo numbly accepted Blaise's hand, stumbling after him as whispers exploded behind him, voices rising the further they moved away. Yet he found that he didn't care, Blaise's hand was warm in his. The door shutting behind them was not the death knell it once was, bolstered by the fact that Blaise kissed Theo desperately, he cupped his face in his hands and rained kisses down onto his shocked partner.

"What just happened?" Theo asked, voice hoarse, barely able to coordinate hanging onto Blaise's waist.

"I tried to tell you this morning, but it all happening at my 'wedding' worked out just as well. I couldn't, wouldn't go through with it. I refused to do that to you."

Theo's head spun.

"So-"

"I told her I was annulling the contract, the goblins know, and they've already been paid. My mother isn't happy, but she'll get used to it. I saw her eyeing up some of the guests on my way in," Blaise sped through everything, as if worried Theo was going to slip away before he had a chance to tell him the full story. 

His nails scratched at the back of Theo's neck, twisting the minute curls – that Theo lost every fight with – between his fingers.

"You're not getting married."

"No."

Theo sighed, pulling Blaise closer, luxuriating in the feeling of having him close once again.

"Let's go back to bed."

"I knew I loved you for a reason."


End file.
